Father Figure

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Father Figure Page 25

by Jane Harvey-Berrick


  And how could I write when I didn’t know what to say? Or what I wanted? Who was I? What was I? Who did I want to be?

  I prayed for answers, but God was silent. I felt his love, I just didn’t know how he could care about me anymore, but he did. And that was why I’d signed up to this in the first place: no matter how dumb you were, no matter the stupid shit you did, no matter how much you’d dragged yourself through the stinking mud, God still loved you. And me.

  ‘Remain in me, and I will you remain in you.’ John 15:4

  Pretty cool quote, I thought.

  God might not have spoken to me directly, but the time since I’d left Blue … or Mariana as she now wanted to be called … He had been good to me. My soul was soothed, my heart was full of hope.

  I was finally finding peace with my past. Being out here, helping others who had so little, back in the middle of firefights over land, power and politics—I was where I was meant to be.

  Maybe I would never forgive myself for my past sins, but I’d come to accept who I’d been and who I was now. I’d stopped fighting myself, stopped listening to my old demons. Yes, at last I felt peace through acceptance.

  For everything.

  For Luke’s death.

  For sleeping with Mariana.

  For killing men.

  And for two years, it was work, eat, sleep, repeat—with a few ISIS attacks thrown in. What sort of bastard attacks a project that’s trying to bring clean water to the district? Mad fuckers with nothing but hate in their hearts.

  And for two years, I’d been a work in progress purging my own self-hatred from my heart.

  I was ready to go home.

  Wes had returned to Mali to train up a new project manager before I left. The new guy was 27 and full of excitement and energy. He seemed like a kid to me … but still older than the woman who filled my dreams.

  Wes walked over and handed me some whiskey in a flask.

  “So, are you ready?”

  I took a slug, coughing slightly since I hadn’t had a drop since I’d been out here, and slapped his shoulder. He’d thrown me a lifeline when I needed it most. I didn’t have any family, nor any close friends, so Wes was truly my brother.

  And he’d saved my life.

  “Yup. I’m ready. I’m ready to go home.”

  He ground his heel into the dirt, stubbing out a cigarette that Rayla had no idea he smoked, then put his hands on his hips and thrust out his head aggressively.

  “Look, Thorne, I know you’re proud as shit—and I don’t know how the Church didn’t beat that out of you after ten years—but my offer still stands. You can work for me back home. I can set you up with a nice place to live and you’d manage one of my health clubs. I’m wanting to help you, man. You don’t have to do this on your own. Please, let me help.”

  “I appreciate that, buddy, but I can’t accept your offer. I have to do this my way.”

  He shook his head—it was an old argument. He didn’t understand why I always chose the hard road. Maybe, despite my new found acceptance of life, maybe I was still doing penance.

  But he was wrong about one thing—I wasn’t going to be alone. I was going to find Blue. I was going to see if we could really be together in the ways she’d described in her letters. I wanted it so bad, but I had to be sure—she had to be sure. I was going to do everything possible to win her heart back. And I was going to marry her if she would have me.

  Maybe then we would create the family together that we so both desperately craved. It wouldn’t be based on revenge, or lust, or scoring points, or duty, or defiance. We would base our new life on love. Love for each other, love for Luke, and love for the Lord.

  And I couldn’t wait to get started.

  Wow, that sounded a lot like hope.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Mariana

  “So, explain this to me again,” said Teresa, who’d turned off re-runs of ‘The Bachelor’ to stare at me in disbelief. “The guy you’ve been writing for two years who has never written back used to be a Navy SEAL and a Catholic priest, the very Mr. Priest McHottie who brought you here when you came to view the apartment, and you’re in love with him, and you think he’s in love with you even though he never wrote you, and he got fired from being a priest because you had sex with him. Is it just me or does that sound like a soap opera?”

  I grinned at her, trying to hide my nerves. “Total soap opera but all true.”

  “And he flies in this evening, and you’re thinking it’s all going to be rainbows and harps, I mean hearts, and you’ll waltz off into the sunset. Girl, please!”

  I grimaced. “Well, that would be kind of great, but I have no idea what will happen. All I know is, he’s finally home.”

  Her voice dropped. “Mari, I’m worried about you. What if, you know, it doesn’t work out like that?”

  My heart somersaulted at the thought. “Then … I still get my degree next month and life goes on, right?”

  She sighed. “You know, all this time I thought you were either writing a guy in the Army or in jail. Ex-priest doing mission work in Africa wasn’t on my list. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Her voice sounded hurt and guilt bubbled under my skin. She was my best friend, my only friend.

  “I wanted to, but I didn’t know if he’d ever come home. It was … like a dream … you know? And if I told you, I’d have to face the reality—whatever that is. I guess I wasn’t ready to let go of my dream.”

  She stood up and pulled me into a hug. “You want me to come to the airport with you? I could wait in the car if you like?”

  I had the best roommate ever.

  “That’s really cool of you, but I’ll be okay by myself. I don’t really know what to expect, so…”

  “It’s okay, I get it. Well, if he’s as smart as you say he is, I’ll use my noise-cancelling headphones tonight.”

  A hot whoosh of heat streaked through my body. “Ha, that’s not very likely. But, you’d really be okay with him coming home with me?”

  “Girl, I have never seen you with a guy. I’ve never even seen you look at a guy. I even wondered for a while if you were a lesbian or maybe just not interested. I do know you’ve been lonely for a long time, so if this guy does it for you, you got my blessing.” Then she laughed. “Oh, wow! I really said that!”

  I laughed with her and hugged her back. “Wish me luck!”

  “Luck!”

  Traffic was moving like treacle on the I5, congealing at the heady speed of 15mph as I drove to the airport. I huffed and sighed and tried every station on the radio but ended up turning it off. I was so on edge, I felt like my head would explode.

  Father Michael hadn’t been happy that I was meeting Gabriel instead of him, but in the end, after a long argument that I was always going to win, he agreed it should be me, then grumbled about it the whole time.

  I didn’t know if Gabriel had gotten my last letter before he’d left, which meant I wasn’t sure if he was expecting me or not.

  Finally, the traffic started to move, and I was spat out at the airport turn-off. I dumped the Chevy in the short stay parking lot and hurried to the arrivals hall. His route had stopped twice, once in Paris and again at Detroit—which meant he’d been traveling almost 36 hours.

  I waited impatiently, tapping my hands on my thighs and shifting from foot to foot. The security guard gave me a long look, but I just flashed him a strained smile. He watched from a distance then wandered away to check on some other nutcase.

  And then I saw him—half a head above the other passengers—my Gabriel. His skin was darkly tanned, and he had a few more threads of silver at his temples, but there he was: Gabriel, my beautiful fallen angel, my love, my man—God willing.

  As he locked eyes on me, his mouth opened just a fraction, and across the busy terminal, we stared at each other. Then he smiled, a wide happy smile, and without even waiting for him to drop his old seabag, I launched myself at him.

  He caught me with one arm as I
buried my head in his chest, babbling incoherently. His arm tightened around my waist as he lifted me up, dropping his bag and wrapping his other hand in my hair.

  “You waited,” he breathed against my hair. “You said you would but I didn’t dare believe.”

  I pulled back and slapped his face. “That’s for not writing me back, you … you big eejit!”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “And you’ve been spending too much time with Mrs. O’Cee. How is she?”

  “Getting older,” I sighed. “But excited to see you.”

  “Blue … I mean, Mariana, I…”

  “Gabriel, no. Whatever objection you have, just no. I’m here because I love you. You’re the best human being I’ve ever met. I have earned this with you now. We’ve both paid, we’ve done our penance. Are you home because you’ve finally forgiven yourself?”

  Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, I think I am.”

  I took a deep breath and met his beautiful steel-colored eyes. “Are you home for me?”

  My heart pounded, afraid of what he might say, or might not say, do or not do. And I prayed.

  His eyes closed and his words were whispered, just the softest breath of warm air against my cheek.

  “I couldn’t stay away any longer. I needed to know if you and me…” His eyes opened, searching mine, “could this really be something?”

  “Did you read my letters?”

  “Read them so many times I’ll never be able to forget them. They were my lifeline.” He sighed. “I still have a lot of shit to sort out. You sure you want some old ex-SEAL, ex-priest, a has-been?”

  “You’re not a has-been, for fuck’s sake!” I snapped impatiently.

  He smiled gently and lifted his hand to my cheek, gently tracing the faint line of my scar with his finger, letting his fingers tangle in my hair.

  “You asked me once in a letter why I thought I could be celibate as a priest. And the answer is because I’d never met a woman who meant more to me than my faith. It was simple, easy. Until I met you. From the moment I saw you.”

  I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry.

  “Okay,” I sniffed, wiping my eyes.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes. Now get your ass in my Chevy. I’m taking you home.”

  And for the second time that evening, his face lit with happiness.

  “Home. You are my home, Mariana. I just didn’t know it.”

  “I did,” I said softly. “Because I’m smart.”

  “Yes, you are. And so fucking beautiful.” He grasped my hand and drew it slowly to his mouth, gently kissing the knuckles. “The first day I saw you, you looked like one of Rossetti’s angels and you’re even more beautiful now.”

  I stood on tiptoe as our lips met, his mouth soft and gentle, mine greedy and desperate. Then a soft growl from his throat had him pressing his magnificent body against me.

  “Mine,” he breathed. “Mine.”

  “Time to come home, Gabriel Thorne. Time to come home.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Gabriel

  Mariana had offered to take me back to her place, but I had something else in mind. I’d had it all planned out in my head without knowing if it would ever happen. I sent up a quick thank you to God. I had to hand it to the dude—he was always listening; he didn’t always tell you what you wanted to hear, or do what you wanted him to do, but he was always there for you.

  In the strangest, most unpredictable way, Mariana had strengthened my faith in God. Simple. Pure.

  Of course, my relationship with the Catholic Church was … well, a helluva lot more complicated. Or simpler, because I didn’t have one. I’d stayed in touch with Neil and Father Michael, but that was the full extent.

  Mariana was squirming in the seat next to me, unable to sit still for even a second. I’d forgotten she was a squirmer. Fuck me if I wasn’t falling in love all over again. I was in love with a squirmer. God sure had a unique sense of humor.

  I absolutely pointblank refused tell her anything about my plans, but finally she realized the direction we were going.

  “We’re going to the Addison?” she whispered.

  Where I first told you I loved you.

  “The Addison, maybe; the Fairmont Grand Del Mar, definitely.”

  But this time, I wasn’t just taking her to dinner, I was taking her to bed.

  There had been so much guilt and grief in our love making before. This time, I wanted to show how much I loved her, worshiped her, was turned on by her, without any fear of getting caught. We were free to love each other—the best gift of all.

  After we checked in, Mariana raced to the room. I thought I had all the surprises, but Mariana never ceased to amaze me.

  I’d planned to take my time; I’d planned to worship every part of her—but Mariana had her own plans, and I was just along for the ride.

  Before I had time to put out the ‘do not disturb sign’ and flip the lock, she’d ripped the clothes off her perfect body and stripped down to the sexiest lingerie I had ever seen. A lacy green bra barely covered her breasts and she wrote a matching thong, garters, and black stockings.

  “Dear God!” I moaned.

  He’d rewarded my years of celibacy with the sexiest woman in the world. And He was about to have the last laugh because if she carried on like this, I’d have the fastest orgasm in history.

  I scooped her up and threw her down on the bed, trying to drag back a tiny piece of control. I had fantasized about this moment every day since I left her. But I was in no rush. Finally, we had all the time in the world.

  “Gabriel!” her voice was hoarse, her own tension showing. “Please, make love to me.”

  “Are you sure, Mariana? Do you want me, forever?”

  “Yes, I do. ‘Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth!

  For your love is better than wine;

  your anointing oils are fragrant;

  your name is oil poured out;

  therefore virgins love you.

  Draw me after you; let us run.

  The king has brought me into his chambers’.”

  Hearing Mariana recite the Bible, brought me to tears.

  I brushed the hair out of her face, letting my emotion flow with my tears.

  “ ‘Behold, you are beautiful, my love; behold, you are beautiful’.”

  We kissed and I felt something I had never felt in my life with another person—pure love, devotion, and acceptance.

  I would make her mine for eternity, until the sun burned cold.

  I stood in front of her, proud and humbled. I unbuttoned my shirt and let it hang at my waist, only dropping to the floor when my leather belt released it. My fingertips hummed with energy, and everything felt vast and new. I kicked off my boots and socks, then unzipped my jeans, the fabric smooth from years of washes.

  My cock throbbed, stretching my briefs, my want and need and desire obvious.

  I picked up my jeans again, reaching for the condom in my wallet, my ‘Hail Mary’ condom as I’d thought of it since getting on an airplane at Bamako in the heat and dust of West Africa.

  Mariana stopped me, her warm fingers resting on my wrist.

  “No. I mean, it’s in God’s hands. I love you. You are my family. If I get pregnant, it would be a blessing.”

  I paused for a second. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Mariana, but I wanted to marry her before we even thought about starting a family.

  But Mariana and I never did anything by the book. Why start now?

  I kissed her as I slowly entered her, my woman. She felt like bliss and heaven all wrapped in one. Our fingers interlaced as we made love, every thrust bringing us closer to each other.

  And although I had been celibate for so many years, at this moment I finally understood why. Sex between two people who truly loved each other, who weren’t just using each other to get off, but truly were devoted to each other, was the most incredible high in the world.

  Mariana was close
, her breath quickening. I placed my hand under her ass and guided her movements.

  “I love you,” I breathed. “God knows I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  We stared into each other’s eyes as we came together, in complete certainty that soulmates existed, that heaven could be achieved on earth.

  And as I held her in my arms, I realized that God and Luke had sent Mariana to save me from myself. She was my gift from heaven. I would never let her go.

  Epilogue

  Mariana

  Of course, life is more than a fairytale. Things weren’t easy for us. There were tons of high-paying jobs that a former SEAL could get in San Diego, but a lot of them meant re-connecting with his military life, and Gabriel didn’t want that. His friend, Wesley, offered him a great job working for him at one of his fitness centers, but Gabriel turned that down, too. He said he needed to take some time and see if he could make it on his own terms. That was my guy—never taking the easy road. I can’t say I agreed with him about that, but I supported his decision.

  Instead, Gabriel took a temporary job as a night security guard at a large shopping mall. I knew that he hated the work and it ate away at him that he couldn’t support me better, as he put it.

  I reminded him that I’d been supporting myself and Lolly for a long time and that he was a sexist asshole. I made him sleep on the couch in our new apartment until I got lonely in the middle of the night, and then we had an epic makeup session, fucking on every flat surface until dawn broke.

  I missed spending girl-time with Teresa, too, and it took some figuring out how to live with a guy. Gabriel was equally clueless as to how to live with a girlfriend, so we just sort of fumbled along together. But that was the point: we did it together. His problems were my problems and we worked through them together.

  It was hard, but we loved hard, and we’d fought our way to Hell and back to be together.

 

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